Some passages from Flashback ...

 

        Back home in the Low Country

Nate drove north on Route 21 toward Charleston. Despite his weariness, he looked forward to the next hour on the road. From Hilton Head Island to Myrtle Beach, the entire coastal area of South Carolina is known as the Low Country. It’s named for the topography—the region is flat, and much of it is wetland that gently melds into the sea. The terrain includes marshes, tidal basins, and estuaries flowing eastward toward the sounds that separate the barrier islands from the mainland. During late afternoons, the lowering sun casts light on the Spartina grass, giving it a golden glow. Summertime brings a grayish-green color to the water, which teems with life, but it becomes a jewel-toned blue as the weather cools and the microscopic animal life start to die off. It remains that color until the following spring when new fauna emerges. The dolphins that inhabit the local waters depend on the cycle; so do the men who still eke out a living with their shrimp trawlers.

        Nate Dunlevy has serious problems

Hours later, a deafening blast and a flash of blinding light caused him to bolt upright in his bed. Sweat poured off his skin and his head pounded. He looked around the room and tried to steady his heart. Within seconds, he knew nothing had happened. The shock that woke him was only in his mind ... He groped his way through the blackness into the bath and flicked the wall switch. The bright light made him squint hard. After splashing cold water on his face, he looked in the medicine cabinet for aspirin and found none. He took his jeans off a hook and stepped into them, cursing as his foot caught and he almost toppled over the commode ...

Inside the building, he looked at the directory and found the suite number for Dr. Joseph Reynolds. After a moment of hesitation, he stepped into the elevator ...

Joe sat in a chair across from Nate and picked up a file from the table next to him. “This is the copy of your medical record that you sent me. I understand why you didn’t want it to come directly from Bethesda. When you walked through that door, you looked as though you’d rather face a firing squad than a psychiatrist.”

Nate propped one long leg on his knee. “You’re very observant, but don’t take it personally.”

Joe smiled. “You aren’t alone in your aversion to head doctors. Most men dread their first appointment with me more than a prostate exam. I never look forward to those.”

“Given a choice, Joe, I’d rather just bend over and be done with all this.”

  

... Joe listened intently and took notes. When Nate paused, the silence hung heavy in the room ... Nate stared at the bottle in his hand and watched the water move inside as he slowly circled the bottle in the air. "I don't know if this problem is related." He thought to himself ... This has to be a man’s worst admission.

Eve takes a good long look at Nate

Nate had just stepped out of the shower and picked up a towel when he heard the doorbell ... After tossing the towel aside, he grabbed sweatpants off a hook and quickly pulled them on. He tied the waist cord loosely as he trotted down the steps and to the front door. When he yanked open the door, Eve was looking down at the step, preparing to turn around. She found herself staring at his bare feet. Then she lifted her gaze to long legs covered in worn-out gray sweats hanging loosely on his hips. She saw a trail of soft black hair grow up from the waistband and cover a firm, flat abdomen. The hair disappeared a few inches above, revealing smooth skin over a muscular torso. The trail of hair resumed a narrow path upward between his ribcage and ended its journey across a powerful chest. Sporadic drops of water clung to flesh and follicles. Her eyes took in broad shoulders, powerful arms, a smiling mouth, and a disheveled crop of dark, wet hair.

After Wade Simmons attacks Eve

Nate pushed through the door of a small, private waiting room. He saw Eve and her sister sitting on a brown vinyl sofa looking down at magazines. His heart rate slowed for the first time since he got the call. Then Eve looked up at him and her battered face made him think of murder. A mass of bruises covered her cheekbones. Her lips had been split open and were puffy. The flesh around one eye was dark and swollen. Her neck revealed the handprints of the man who had choked her ...

Like many other mornings, boats slowly glided past the weathered wooden pier that juts out from the O’Connor property. Shrimp trawlers returned from the sea, decks laden with early-morning catches, gulls trailing behind screeching loudly, diving for the chum washed from the boat. Eve always enjoyed the morning view from her bedroom veranda. But today she stood with her arms gripped tightly across her body and tears streaming down her face. She saw the flash of a silver mullet jump two feet out of the water to avoid being eaten by a larger fish. Eve felt like a hapless mullet that had already been swallowed.

Eve lashes out at Nate

Eve had a vague recollection of Nate helping her to and from the bathroom, bringing her water, and handing her pills after she had eased her sore body onto the mattress. "How did I get into bed last night?"

    "I carried you there."

    Her disposition rejected the idea of tenderness from any man, including him. She said with cynicism, "You missed your calling―you should have been a nurse instead of a soldier."

    ... Nate kept his voice level. "A soldier's been known to play medic when one of his buddies his hurt." He turned his back to her and began breaking eggs into a bowl.

    Watching him beat the eggs made her mood even worse. "It looks as though soldiers do just about anything they want. I see you've taken over my household."

    Nate's eyes iced when he turned back to her. He strained to keep his voice low and calm. "If I had done everything I wanted to do, Simmons wouldn't have gotten to you." His control slipped, and his voice grew louder. "I wanted to help, to make sure something like this didn't happen!" The moment he said it, Nate regretted it. Eve didn't need his guilt dumped on her. The apology was on his tongue, but she cut him off.

   "Oh! Here we go―now this is all about you. Why do men assume that everything that happens to a woman, good or bad, revolves around them?"...

Nate goes 'inside' as Buck Walters

The next morning a very large guard banged his nightstick on the bars of the cell. He had ebony skin, a shaved head, over two hundred pounds of solid muscle, and a cruel expression. The guard bellowed, “Walters, you come with me—now!” Buck and Wade exchanged looks as Buck reluctantly got off his bunk and moved to the entrance of the cell. The guard forced him to walk in front, shoving the hard stick into his lower back, prodding him to move more quickly. He escorted Buck to a small cinder-block room with a steel door, no windows, and a single drab, dented metal table. No one could see or hear what happened inside the four walls. When the guard slammed the door, it locked automatically.

Devon McLean joins the fray

... they heard tires spit gravel as a pickup truck with a crew cab pulled into the parking lot. Nate and Devon watched through the window as four large, overweight men in hunting gear got out of the truck. Two of them showed great interest in the South Carolina van parked in front, while two others took a leak at the edge of the parking lot. The men moved around the van, murmuring to each other for several minutes.

“All four together wouldn’t make the sharpest pencil in the cup,” Devon commented.

“Is it hunting season?” Nate asked.

“Small game only.”

“Who would wander around the woods while guys like that carry loaded guns?”

Dev shrugged. “Ask the vice president.”

Nate laughed aloud.

They watched as the hunters came through the door and looked at them. One asked, “You two belong to that van outside?"

Devon remembered the printing on the side of the van: Charleston County Department of Corrections. He responded, “Why? You lookin’ for your momma?”

Nate rolled his eyes and Devon muttered his regret. They looked at each other and drew the same conclusion… both of them looked like felons on the run.

Dev murmured to Nate, “You carrying?”

He shook his head. “You?”

“Who’d have thought?”

Nate spoke to the hunters. “Just passing through.”

Another hunter replied, “Looks like you’re running from the law.”

Devon responded, “Sure, pal, that’s why we’re driving around in a paddy wagon.” The absurdity was lost on the group. Nate rolled his eyes again.

The hunter looked at his friends. “I’ll bet there’s a good size reward for these two!”

 

Refuge on Hilton Head Island

       An hour later, they landed on Hilton Head Island, walked past a striped lighthouse, and followed the signs for a trolley. Dozens of tourists milled past shops, and a long line waited at the trolley stop. Both men were glad for their anonymity among the crowd. Soon the foursome stepped off the trolley near a cluster of red and blue wooden buildings. Eve scanned the small village ... it reminded her of an old New England fishing town. Pleasure boats floated in the marina, shops and restaurants occupied the two-story buildings, and a friendly outdoor bar took center stage on a large deck that overlooked the waterway. Large logs burned in an outdoor fire pit. Bartenders served drinks to the people gathered around on stools, many of whom appeared to be locals.

    Devon spotted a small wooden sign indicating the location of the local inn ... Nate took a position at the bar where he could watch the activity around them ...

 

    The gray, weathered house was one of many duplexes that sat on the farthest point from the island's bridge. From the rear of the house, Devon could see Daufuskie and several other barrier islands. Braddock Cove sliced through marshes to his right, and the tides of the Calibogue Sound flowed swiftly in front and to his left. Nate and Eve walked up the beach bordering the Calibogue Sound ... Soon all four were settled inside the home, away from the scrutiny of the outside world and those who might want to harm them.